Tak, tak, tak, tak. Imzadi had lingered for a few minutes where the long cobbled stone path to the temple of Enyo met the road. She wondered if she should go home first, change out of her work clothes, maybe bring something? Granted she didn't exactly work up a sweat or anything in her line of work, but were scrubs appropriate things to wear in a temple? The hallowed woman had been on the fence about it, but decided against worrying too much over it. Still, as she made her way nearer to the temple proper, she couldn't help herself when she wrapped her light jacket more thoroughly about her.
Tak, tak, tak, tak.
It had been a long while since she had visited any of the temples in the area, but a patient she was due to see within the next few days had put the idea in her head that it might be nice to have a little more oomph in her proverbial corner, for both her patient and herself. Would that be considered selfish? She wasn't the most devout believer walking around Below, but she did believe. Every little bit helped, so why not try? The temple proper loomed, paintings of battle and victory throughout history became clear as she entered. She fought the urge to reach out and trace her fingertips across the forms splashed across the walls. Probably frowned upon, wouldn't want to damage temple property from every nightmare or daydream passing through, touching the paint. Inside, she could hear a few gathered worshipers sparring, worshiping? Both likely. A statue of the goddess dwelt within. Her stance was strong, fierce, and her gaze unrelenting as the twin braziers flickering at her feet cast dancing shadows across her face. Some of those gathered near the statue sat in benches, others sat seemingly meditating nearer to the base of the statue, some in silence, some with softly muttered entreaties to Enyo.
This seemed to be the place she was needing at the moment. And so, taking a deep, calming breath, Imzadi peeled out of her jacket, found a spot in the back of those meditating nearer to the statue, settled herself down on the cool stone floor with her jacket laying beside her, and rolled her neck and shoulders as she straightened her spine, top to tail, though she curled her tail along one hip to avoid someone accidentally treading on it. Deep breath in, slow breath out. No holding back. No exaggerating. Just a straight forward prayer, mean it to her very core. Rallying for someone else was always easy to her, but asking for herself was always harder.
Embi-lamb
